THE CAMPUS CRY

BY Matt son sang
After every four years a campus student drops tears for misplaced priorities.
To chris the word campus sounds like a place to sit down, eat, drink, rave, hanging out with friends and wait to be loved or find someone to love. A tradition which has made most students to feel withdrawn when they find that no one is interested with them forgetting that nature may be leading them to the right direction and resistance may be a limitation.
“I feel bad n even regret why I was born” Chris said. Chris was admitted to campus seven years ago, even a law or engineering student could hardly spend more than five. He was among the top students whom the press found qualified to appear on the screens as a motivation to the rest of the country.
He said it is in campus that most students make sure they compensate their sleep which might have been interrupted by “very important” businesses like drinking in the club until the birds remind you that you time is up you have a CAT.
After three months of admission to the university, Chris luckily managed to win for himself a beautiful lady who cloud sacrifice to dress scantily to be more sexually attractive to him and for the purpose of “fresh” appearance. Could this be the reason why many ladies dress scantily?
Day in day out Chris and her loved one Martha were enjoying their live in campus with the little money they could fetch from their parents together with the higher education loans board loan which they thought it was a free gift. They managed to complete their first year successfully in their relationship. New environment and being fresh was their rescue.
In second year, together as one was their slogan at the clubs and even in the streets. “cwthrt”, “cwry”, “hny”, and hubby were the only names they could use to address each other. Addressing the other person by the real name was like a divorce to the other. They could walk holding each other by the waist as a series of kisses followed the rhythm of their walking style.
The long waited Friday often referred to as “furahiday” a day to be happy was at their door. Chris sited on a metallic chair in his room plays loud music “riddims” as he waits for his sweetheart to knock. His bed was well spread with pink bedcover with spots o flowers and a soft pillow on top waiting for someone to rest on it.
The music went on loudly that they could share with the neighbors. It was seven o’clock in the evening and Martha should have finished the lectures of the day. Chris picked his techno smart phone checked into his call log directly to frequently contacted. Of course that was the location he could easily find the contact of his sweetheart. He dials the number. “hi dia are you coming”? He asked as the front page of his trouser appeared bumpy. He had missed her, it was two weeks since he touched the ripe fruits hanging on a strip tied to her chest. “I’m on my way to your room my love” was the reply from his girlfriend.
Chris warned his roommate of interfering with them until he is called back. Forced exile is their normal term.  It was already 7pm. Da! da!da!da!da!!! There was a knock at the door. Chris reduced the volume of his ampex woofer and walked towards the doors as his “service tool” cried of hunger.
Check in for part two tomorrow.